Across A Sea
by Hyaenaa
Summary: A year after his sister's death, Craig is being harassed and stalked by someone who is clearly out for blood. Tweek does his best to support and help him, but his best can only amount to so much when his own life is on the line.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING BEFORE YOU START READING: This story contains graphic depictions of gore, violence, death, and paranoia. Some of the content may be triggering. Please read with that in mind. I sincerely apologize for any disturbances I may cause.**

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**Across a Sea: Chapter One**

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There was a smile gracing his face.

Tweek idly played with his eraser, anxiously ticking every so often as Mr. Garrison droned on in the background. Beneath the desk, Clyde passed him a sheet of paper. They'd been passing notes all class, going on about how funny Eric Cartman looked with braces, how cool Token's brand new car was (his parents coughed up a vehicle for him as soon as he hit sixteen), how much they liked the new Pokemon game. Mr. Garrison didn't care at that point in the school year, though he had at one point commented on how he thought it was stupid that they passed physical notes instead of texting each other. Tweek was too nervous about the government tracking his texts, though, so he rarely texted anyone. Besides, his hands were too shaky to properly text - he could barely write straight as it was!

Clyde didn't seem deterred by his bad handwriting, though, and the two giggled as they wrote back and forth. To the other desk beside Tweek, Craig Tucker stared listlessly into space. Tweek spared him a glance, wondering what he was thinking of and feeling at that particular moment in time. Craig was a fickle guy on a general basis, but he'd been a changed man ever since his sister was hit by a car a year ago. Stephen Stotch, who had been arguing with his son, Butters Stotch, hadn't been paying enough attention to where he was going and ended up hitting young Ruby. She died on the way to the hospital, and ever since that fateful day, Craig had become strange.

Before that time, Craig was closed off and reserved, very independent and introverted. When his sister died, he had become more needy towards his friends, never wanting to take them for granted. Tweek never minded the attention; he and Craig were great friends, best friends even. Tweek's other best friend was none other than Clyde Donovan, the boy he was passing notes with.

Clyde was an outgoing, emotional, extroverted, and a bit of a whiner. Tweek didn't mind that either. It was nice to feel like he wasn't the only one that freaked out over the smallest things. When Clyde cried, Tweek did his best to comfort him, even though he knew it was something that would pass within minutes. Sometimes Clyde just had an abundance of emotions and he needed to let them out. Tweek understood.

The conversation in their notes veered away from how Clyde could forge his mother's signature easily for a moment when Clyde asked him a strange question.

_Have you ever taken a psychology class?_

Tweek's first reaction was to note that it was an odd question, but he didn't think much of it. _No, why?_

But his response wasn't as quick as Clyde's last ones were. He seemed to put a lot of thought into what he was writing.

_Did you know there's this whole thing where people only see what they want to see? Like if a little kid sees a monster under their bed, it's because they had been thinking of monsters, not because there really is one._

This made Tweek smile. Sometimes Clyde tried to reassure him that his paranoias were invalid. Although he was perfectly confident that sometimes aliens _did_ control what people around him were saying and that the government _did_ put cameras in his refrigerator, he appreciated the sentiment.

Class ended rather abruptly, and all the kids flooded into the hallways, ready to head to the next period. Tweek and Clyde walked with Craig to their locker, the three of them idly chatting about whatever came to mind. Craig was going on about his two guinea pigs, Stripe II and Pecan, and how they were getting along better than they used to.

As soon as Craig opened his locker, a note fell out, fluttering to the floor. Craig glanced at it in interest. "What's this?" He muttered as he bent down to pick it up.

"Dude, sweet," Clyde attempted to peek over his shoulder. "Did you get someone's number?"

Craig's brows furrowed as he read the note, and Tweek watched as he visibly stiffened. "Wh-what is it?" Tweek twitched, pulling at his fingers.

"It says, 'I'm coming for you, Tucker'..." He muttered, frowning deeply.

Tweek got a glimpse at the note, seeing how the words were scrawled in black pen. The words had been gone over several times, as though whoever had written them was meticulous about how their note was read. Tweek let out a shrill gasp and a soft chirp of fear, twitching violently. Clyde put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him, his playful expression now completely dissolved into seriousness.

"That's creepy." Clyde stated dryly. "But it's probably just someone messing with you, dude." He slapped Craig on the back gently.

Craig turned towards him, looking him in the eyes, before he crumpled the note and pocketed it. "...You're right."

Clyde watched the note disappear into his pocket, before Tweek yelped again, tugging at his hair.

"Oh sweet Jesus! You can't just brush it off like that, man! What if someone wants to kidnap you and sell you into p-prostitution?" He winced as he trembled at the very thought of poor Craig being subjected to such abuse.

Craig rose a brow. "Not everyone wants to sell someone else into prostitution, Tweek."

Clyde tugged Tweek's hands away from his hair, before he seemed to glance down the hallway and pale. "Uh... Guys? Look who's staring us down."

Tweek and Craig turned to see none other than Butters Stotch at the opposing end of the hallway. He was staring at them with a blank expression plastered to his visage, books clutched protectively to his chest. He seemed to notice them staring, because he jumped, and then spun around and fast-walked away.

"Weird," Clyde muttered.

Tweek shrieked, nodding. "O-oh God, why was he staring at us?"

Craig was silent as he sullenly shut his locker. His voice was disquieted as he began to walk down the hallway. "...We're going to be late."

Clyde and Tweek exchanged looks, before following behind their other friend. They knew the Stotches were a sensitive subject for Craig. They walked behind him quietly, and Tweek's thoughts were a mess of concerns. Who sent that note to Craig? What did they want with him? Why was Butters staring at them? Was Butters angry at Craig because Craig's sister was the reason that his dad was sent to jail? What if it was actually Butters' dad who had sent that note from jail to give to Butters to give to Craig because maybe the whole thing wasn't an accident and maybe he just really hated the Tucker family? Or were there ghosts behind this whole ordeal?

"Jesus Christ, way too much pressure!" Tweek nearly sobbed out.

Clyde put a hand on his back, smiling at him. "Don't worry, man. It's all going to be just fine."

Tweek looked into his eyes, and he genuinely believed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Across a Sea: Chapter Two**

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_"Craig…?"_

_"She's dead, Tweek. She's dead."_

_Craig stared up at him, his eyes immersed in layers of darkness. A shadow from the window covered his face, contrasting brightly with the sunlight that illuminated his tired features. He curled up further into the cushion on the floor, his hands far too stiff to be human. Tweek stood there in utter shock, just gazing down at him with wide, concerned eyes._

_"I'm sorry," was all his hoarse throat could muster, before he collapsed to his knees and pulled Craig into a bruising hug. "I'm sorry this happened..."_

_"...Me too."_

* * *

Pizza was always a great after-school food. Every Friday, Clyde, Tweek, and Craig would go to the pizza hut a few blocks from the school and pig out. Token used to join them before the accident involving Craig's sister, but ever since it had happened, he stayed away from Craig, not wanting to get the brunt of his depression. Craig had lost a lot of his friends that way, really. The only ones that stayed - Tweek and Clyde - were too close with him to part.

Tweek peeked under each pepperoni, making sure that he wasn't going to eat any cameras that the government might have planted, or accidentally consume spider eggs that had somehow been laid in the cheese of his food. Clyde threw a fry his way, grinning widely as he laughed. Tweek shrieked, before he grinned, and feigning annoyance, tossed one of the loose pepperonis at his friend. Clyde caught it in his mouth, before taking a loud slurp of his soda.

"Dude, so like, today, in English class, freakin' Stan Marsh sat next to Gary Harrison and stole his pencil right out of his hand. I was like, whoa dude! And Gary just _smiled_ at him." Clyde exclaimed with a mouthful of pizza.

"Oh Jesus!" Tweek shakily nibbled on his slice. "What i-if he poisoned that pencil before taunting Stan into taking it? I- I mean, not before taking an antidote for himself, first. Christ! No one can be that nice for real, man. It's not natural!" Tweek yanked on his hair.

Clyde laughed and shook his head. "Tweek, man, you are a trip."

"I-I'm serious, man! That Harrison kid scares the shit outta me. What if he like, tries to make me a Mormon or something? I don't want to be a cultist!" Tweek furiously twirled his hair.

"Don't worry, he's going to be leaving to go on his mission in a few years anyway." Clyde flippantly stated, pushing his pizza crust into his waiting mouth.

"Oh God, I hope so! He freaks me out. So does that Stoley kid! He always tries to talk to me, but I think it's because he wants to beat me to death with his lightsaber." Tweek tugged his shirt at the very thought.

Clyde laughed. "He wants to be your friend, dude."

"G-gah! I don't want to be friends with a cultist Mormon or an art obsessed Star Wars fan!" Tweek yanked at his hair.

"You're friends with me, and I draw a lot," Clyde commented.

Tweek glanced to Craig, who was being eerily silent. The boy was just staring at his pizza, not eating any. Tweek shared a look with Clyde, who shrugged in confusion. Tweek looked back to Craig in frightful anxiety. He was so unmoving, so stiff, as though he were some mechanical being piloting a flesh suit with dark intentions - one that had run out of battery. Tweek jolted in horror at the very thought.

"Oh _God_, gghghaah!" Tweek nervously shoved the rest of his slice into his mouth, chewing anxiously. "Oh man, oh man. Craig, you- you're not a robot, are you? I mean, you would tell us, right? Oh sweet Jesus!"

Craig's eyes slid over to glance at Tweek, raising an ebony brow at the exclamation. "I'm not a robot..."

Tweek sighed in relief, relaxing in his seat as he took a gulp of soda.

"...But Clyde is." Craig glanced over to his brown haired friend, expression fairly neutral despite the content of his words.

Tweek shot up in his seat, gazing wide eyed in terror at Clyde. "Gnhnah! Oh lord, are you, Cl-Clyde?"

Clyde shot Craig a frown that Tweek distinctly identified as his 'don't scare him like that' frown (he often gave people this look), before he smiled at Tweek.

"Could a robot do _this?_" He exclaimed, throwing a pizza slice up in the air with the intention of catching it in his mouth. It smacked him in the face.

Tweek smiled. "I-I guess not?" Classic Clyde.

Clyde chewed the pizza off of his face, Tweek gagging at how odd it was to watch. He went back to eating his pizza, making sure to chew carefully so he could catch anything that might've been wrong with the food, just in case. To his luck, he didn't seem to find anything unnatural.

Long after their pizza was gone, the three remained in the booth, Tweek entertained by Clyde's antics all the while. Craig, on the other hand, remained distant and stoic as he stared out the window. Tweek bit his lip anxiously as he thought of the note from earlier, which was probably the thing on Craig's mind.

The walk home was a relatively quiet one when they parted ways. Clyde went off to his house, where Tweek and Craig - whose houses were in similar directions - continued to walk together. Craig just kept his eyes forward, horrifically apathetic as he walked almost mechanically. Tweek was a mess of twitching and alerted yelps as he walked along at erratic paces. Craig was making him nervous. He wasn't one to talk a lot on a regular basis, but his silence this time was just out of control. Craig was fingering his pocket knife from his pocket, Tweek could see. It was a shiny, slick silver blade with a golden brim. It was a gift from his grandfather, apparently, before the old man had passed. He carried it on him with all times, almost like a deadly comfort item. He never let anyone touch it, save for himself. Ever.

When they arrived in front of Tweek's house, they both halted, and Tweek turned to Craig in utter concern, knowing for sure that he wouldn't be toying with the pocket knife if something weren't truly on his mind.

"Look, man. I know you're nervous about like... The note thing. I-I am too!" He shrieked out the last sentence, eyes glancing this way and that.

Craig's eyebrows fell downwards, low on his forehead as he stared down in awkwardness. "I just don't know what it means, or why someone would give it to me."

Tweek and he stood there for several moments, the air humid around them as Tweek's eyes swiveled back and forth in search of what to say. Finally, he rested a hand over Craig's shoulder, sending him the most earnest smile he could possibly muster.

"Just know that no matter what, I'll always be your fr-friend. Okay?" His head twitched to the side, disrupting his sentence somewhere in between the words as they cracked, but he was sincere and genuine.

A soft smile pulled at Craig's lips and he nodded. "Thanks dude. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay. B-be safe, Craig!" Tweek called after him as he walked away, before he sighed and headed off to his own house.

All he could do was hope for the best and worry about the worst.

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**I sincerely apologize for the late update. I try to update every week, but I was on a trip in a different city for a conference and I ended up not being able to have access to the computer.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: There is an in-detail description of vomit in this chapter. If you have etemophobia, I strongly suggest you skip over that part.**

**Across a Sea: Chapter Three**

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Tuesday's were some of Tweek's least favorite days. Mondays stressed him out more, of course, but he hated Tuesday's, because they made him feel like he was suffocated by the dreary length of each week. Time had passed and yet none had at all, and he hated that. Lunch, however, often alleviated some of the horridly drawling boredom of each Tuesday, and Tweek was thankful to sit at his table with Clyde and Craig. They sat at the same table as Stan and those guys too, but they rarely ever actually spoke to them.

Tweek always packed his lunch. He was deathly afraid of school lunches, believing them to be made up of some processed goo that was only dyed and molded to look a certain way. Clyde didn't seem to mind them and ate away at them casually. Craig, on the other hand, would alternate, depending on whatever was most convenient for him. He always got whatever he could that was most plain. Apparently he didn't like condiments or sauce or any flavor enhancers because they ruined the original taste of the food, or something like that. Tweek really didn't understand, being one to add lots of things to his coffee, but he never minded Craig's strangeness.

"I'm telling you guys, Say Anything is a damn good band." Clyde was saying, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "Makes me feel so badass, like I could rob a store or something. I'm pretty good at that, actually."

"Oh my God!" Tweek keened out.

Craig chewed at his plain bologna sandwich, raising a brow. "Music with words is stupid. You should listen to some more instrumentals."

Tweek nibbled his carrots and twitched. "God! Choosing a favorite band is way too much pressure, man! I can't!"

"Then don't." Craig simply said, before he took a sip of his soup, and made a face.

"What kind of soup is that?" Clyde asked him. "It smells awesome."

"It tastes like ass," Craig muttered. He took another sip.

Tweek yanked his hair. "AGH! You know what ass tastes like?"

Craig sent him a glare while Clyde doubled over with laughter. Craig rolled his eyes and didn't answer, however, and kept consuming his soup. Clyde began to talk about how he was drawing contour lines in art class and how Bebe Stevens and Wendy Testaburger disappeared into the storage closet for twenty minutes before they came out, both empty handed and looking a bit messy. He theorized that they'd done nasty things, and Tweek was horrified at the concept of doing anything like that in a storage closet, considering how much dust would no doubt be around.

Craig set his empty thermos on the table and nodded, but his eyes looked a bit glassy and distant. His face slowly grew pale and clammy, sweat dripping down his forehead as he lurched over, fingers clenching the edge of the table. It didn't take long for Clyde and Tweek to take notice of his definitively sickly state.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Clyde asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Craig jerked away. "Don't touch me," he seethed, sounding just as sick as he looked.

"Agh! Wh-what's wrong?" Tweek yelped in concern.

Craig opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted as Dougie - the kid a few grades below them, walked up to them.

"Have any of you guys seen Butters? He was here earlier, but I can't find him." He asked to the whole table.

Craig threw up instantly, his putrid vomit a ghastly shade of green, with swirls of yellow and specs of brown, encompassing a large portion of the table. He choked as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the table, everyone in the area gasping loudly as it dripped off the side and spread down the surface. When he finally stopped, bits of puke were dribbling from his panting mouth, and his eyes were half lidded and bloodshot. The odor of the chunky fluid wafted up from the source, filling the vicinity.

Everyone stared at him for a few moments, all still, save for Tweek, who was shaking violently. Finally, Eric Cartman spoke up.

"Dude, what the _fuck?_"

"That's nasty!" Stan Marsh groaned, holding his nose.

"You're not one to really talk, Stan, but yeah, that's totally gross." Kyle elbowed his friend almost playfully, but his expression was blank, if not a bit disgusted as he too held his nose.

Kenny McCormick, meanwhile, was laughing his ass off.

"Are you okay, man?" Clyde asked, his voice sensitive as he reached out to touch Craig's back. He seemed to hesitate, and his hand faltered backwards, as though not wanting to agitate him any further.

"Oh Jesus! You're sick? Why didn't you tell us?" Tweek jittered.

"I... I think there was something wrong with my soup," Craig coughed, using his sleeve to wipe away his mouth.

"Come on, you should go to the nurse's." Clyde gestured for them to stand.

He and Tweek led the hunched and tired Craig away from the scene, where kids were beginning to comment on how disgusting it was.

"Ugh... I think someone poisoned it, or something..." Craig muttered as he sat outside of the office. "I just bought that soup..."

Tweek craned his head as Clyde disappeared into the office. "Someone p-poisoned it? Oh Jesus!"

Craig held his head in his hands.

Tweek trembled beside him. "Oh God! The same person who wrote that one scary note, m-maybe? Christ!"

"Maybe..." Craig muttered.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, as Tweek shuddered violently at the horror of what was transpiring. Clyde popped his head out of the office.

"Hey dude, called your dad, but he can't come, so he said for one of us to drop you off at home." He told him, voice gentle.

Craig groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "...Tweek, would you mind driving me?"

Tweek shrieked at the very insinuation. Getting behind the wheel of a car always was nerve-wracking. What if he made a wrong turn, or pressed on the gas too hard, or shifted lanes at the wrong time? It would be all over for him!

...But the look of sheer helplessness that Craig's demeanor held made him cave in. He nodded. Clyde looked slightly disheartened but he smiled regardless.

"Okay, feel better man. I'm gonna get to class, okay?" He strode away, his hand grazing Craig's shoulder as he did.

Tweek and Craig stopped by their lockers before they got into Craig's beat up Nissan Rogue, Craig far too sick to do much but hold his sides and rest his head against the seat while Tweek speedily drove away from the school. He'd alternate between going too fast and going too slow, always afraid of hitting the opposing extreme. When they finally made it back to Craig's house, Tweek was more than relieved to be back to walking. Craig, on the other hand, looked like he wanted nothing more than to get to a bed as soon as possible.

The moment they entered, Tweek inhaled the scent of... Nothing. Craig's house was bland and smelt like absolutely nothing. He smiled at the characteristic Tucker family, before leading the sickening boy up the stairs and to his room. Whenever the door opened, however, Tweek immediately sensed that something was off. A splash of red color threw the room off balance, and he gasped when his eyes made contact with the source. On Craig's window, words had been painted on with some red liquid, now dried, into a threatening message.

_Watch out for your friends, Tucker._

Tweek screamed out in terror, his frightened voice echoing throughout the house as Craig gasped, his eyes widening. But what scared Tweek even more than the content of the words, was the way that the words themselves were written - in the exact same handwriting Craig himself always used.


	4. Chapter 4

**Across a Sea: Chapter Three**

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_"Listen," Token's smooth voice whispered into the dark, extensive hallway._

_Tweek stared at him, he and Clyde positioned just two or so feet behind Craig, who was facing Token in an almost defensive stance._

_"I don't want any trouble, man. But you've changed." His voice held a drip of painful seriousness to it._

_"I haven't changed," Craig's voice cracked._

_Token's brows furrowed. "I just can't hang out with you anymore. I'm sorry." He sent Craig one last forlorn glance, before he turned on his heel and strode down the hallway._

_Craig stared after him for several moments, before he breathed out one last sentiment. __"I'm sorry too."_

* * *

"You're staying w-with us tonight."

Tweek's eyes were furrowed with determination. He was clutching his sheets so tightly that his knuckles were blanched, and Clyde nodded in agreement. After the bloody message incident, Tweek and Craig had gone to Tweek's house instead, and texted Clyde to come there after school - which he did. They were now holed up in Tweek's bedroom, Tweek and Clyde seated on the bed while Craig sat on the floor, picking idly at the carpet.

"...Okay." He simply replied, his eyes drawn to the wall adjacent from him.

Tweek and Clyde glanced to each other, before a grin slipped onto Clyde's face.

"How about we marathon all the Godzilla movies?" He suggested, pulling his lap top from his back pack and onto the bed.

"Ngh- are they scary?" Tweek inquired, his voice dropping to a whisper at the last word. Clyde knew he hated scary things.

Craig propped himself up onto the bed. "No, they're lame."

"Some of the special effects were really good for their time," Clyde argued playfully, before he began (illegally) streaming the first film.

It was somewhat uncomfortable, with all of them cramped together before the small screen, but they managed to polish off quite a few movies before the sun dipped beneath the surface of South Park and darkness was upon them. Tweek began to grow anxious as the night dwindled away. His thoughts could never quite stray far from the person who must have been harassing Craig.

Was it someone they knew? It had to have been someone who knew Craig, at the very least. This person not only knew where his school locker was, but also where he lived. They had managed to poison his lunch somehow and were now threatening his friends in extension to Craig. That battered Tweek up even further - he was, of course, _extremely_ worried about Craig, but now he was in danger too? The thought made him scratch at his skin furiously in horror, picking away at old scabs and twisting his neck.

A hand on his made him stop, and Tweek looked to see Craig staring him down sternly. "Stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

Tweek yelped quietly, but nodded, and sat on his hands so as not to use them. The movies dragged on now, and Tweek was anxiously glancing between the door, the lap top screen, and his window. He was paranoid that the door might creep open slowly, or that shadows might dance beyond the glass of his window, and he ended up swaying back and forth in discomfort.

Eventually, Clyde yawned and rested his head on Tweek's shoulder. The warmth from his friend was slightly comforting and Tweek felt himself beginning to breathe a bit easier, reminded that he wasn't alone at the very least. He had his two best friends in the whole world with him, and that made him feel safe.

Although Tweek had started attempting a regular sleep schedule sometime two years ago, he still slept far less than his other friends. Usually he took sporadic forty minute naps throughout the night, when he didn't take sleeping pills. But at this point, his eyelids were growing heavy with drowsiness, without any pills, a feeling that made him smile in pride at being tired. Clyde too seemed sleepy, and eventually shut off the lap top, setting it to the side.

He flopped onto his back and curled up beneath the sheets, to which Tweek looked down with a blank expression. He might've normally been disdainful at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as a friend, but damn it, he was tired and Clyde was tired and it didn't matter. Craig shimmied off of the bed and pulled a sleeping bag from Tweek's closet, laying it out on the floor beside them. Tweek gazed at him drearily. The last thing he registered before drifting into a deep sleep was Craig peering down at him, his dark eyes almost piercing when doused in the moonlight that seeped in through Tweek's window.

* * *

...When Tweek came to, it was not to the pleasant sun filtering in and invading his senses, but to the sound of loud footsteps throughout his house and the red of his alarm clock blurring into his vision, reading "4:28". He blinked for a few seconds, before he realized that there were _loud footsteps throughout his house_.

Sitting up in horror, Tweek looked around. Clyde was no where to be seen, and neither was Craig. He flinched in on himself and his knees trembled awkwardly. He was now hyperventilating, his mind a spinning mess of what could be happening. Being who he was, his thoughts immediately concluded the worst.

_Someone is here. Someone is here and someone took my friends. They took them, they took them!_

He outright screamed in horror when the door opened - only to reveal a petrified looking Clyde stumbling in.

"Tweek! Tweek, I can't find Craig. He and I got up because we thought someone was here with us, but I got separated from him, and now- now I don't know where he is!" Clyde sounded downright hysterical, his voice cracking as tears leaked from his eyes.

"Oh God!" Tweek tore at his hair furiously. "We- we have to help him! Someone could be trying to kill him _right now_, man!"

Clyde reached forward and took hold of Tweek's hand. "Let's stay together, okay?" He swept a tear from his cheek.

Tweek nodded and they both departed from the safety of his room, plunging into the darkness of the hallway. It was nearly pitch black, and anything visible remained a silhouette. Tweek clenched onto Clyde's hand tightly, desperate not to lose contact with him. The footsteps were coming from downstairs, and the two of them crept down quietly but quickly, Tweek stumbling here and there in his nervousness. He felt slightly more safe with Clyde, though, feeling as though Clyde would protect him if anything were to happen.

They maneuvered blindly in the darkness for a moment, before they caught sight of a figure in the darkness. Both of them stiffened in shock, and Tweek could feel the blood draining from his face. The figure seemed to stare at them, before it launched forward and tackled Clyde onto the floor.

"JESUS! JESUS NO, DON'T HURT HIM!" Tweek screamed out as the two wrestled onto the floor.

The figure on top paused before it sat up, and both of their movements stilled.

"...Clyde?" Craig's voice muttered from the darkness.

Tweek fumbled around nervously, before his hand hit the light switch and he turned it on.

It was Craig - the figure had been Craig. He looked down at Clyde in shock, who was looking back at him with an equal amount of surprise.

"Dude, what the hell!" Clyde shouted as he pushed Craig off of him. He grabbed at his arm, fingering a sizeable cut.

"S-sorry man," Craig muttered, his eyes still wide, and clutching his gold brimmed pocket knife. The one that he carried with him at all times. "I-I thought you were..."

Clyde's eyes seemed to soften, and he leaned forward to embrace Craig. "You had me scared shitless, man. I..."

Tweek covered his face, crying a little bit. "Oh God, you're okay!"

Craig looked to him, his eyes glazed over in his own horror. "I- I guess."

They were all a little shaken up when Tweek's mother descended the stairs, looking at them all with tired, bloodshot eyes. "...Boys? What's going on down here? I heard a lot of noise."

"Mom!" Tweek shrieked. He'd almost forgotten his parents were in the house with them."We-"

She seemed too startled to even note her own son. "Craig, honey! Where did that blood come from?" She then looked over to Clyde. "Are you two okay?"

Tweek glanced over to Craig and Clyde, both of which were now examining themselves. Sure enough, there were splotches of blood littering their shirts. Craig instantly laid a hand over his shoulder, where the blood seemed to have come from.

"Someone scraped off some of my skin." He explained blandly, his voice only a tad shaky. He then looked over to Clyde. "I'm sorry man, it must've gotten onto you when I..." He trailed off.

Clyde sent him a weird look. "_You're_ sorry?! Dude, we have to take a look at that!" He ignored his own cut momentarily.

They stayed up until sunrise, tending to the wounds - which appeared more like someone had cut Craig vertically as opposed to scraping him - and Tweek downed several cups of coffee. Clyde even had a cup. The three were all rather frightened by what had happened, and Clyde had explained that he'd heard a noise and asked Craig to check it out with them last night before Craig was attacked. Craig surmised that he too had heard the noise, but he'd thought it was just the house settling. Clyde buried his head into Craig's shoulder and held him, horrified of losing sight of him again. Tweek stayed close too, his body jittery.

Still, Craig was adamant about not calling the police. Apparently he didn't want to make it a bigger deal than it had to be, to which surprised Mrs. Tweak. Still, she accepted this with a curt nod. Mr. Tweak too eventually came down, and they stayed with the boys until 9:00 AM, until Tweek's parents departed to work. They'd assured the boys that they didn't have to go to school that day, and they all gladly accepted, eventually all staying put in Tweek's room. They kept all the lights on and all the doors locked, and Craig took a nap while Clyde and Tweek watched old episodes of Red Racer to calm down.

Tweek clung to Clyde like he was his very life blood, and Clyde clung back with an equal amount of fervor, both of them terrified as they kept watch over a sleeping Craig Tucker.


	5. Chapter 5

_**WARNING FOR ANIMAL CRUELTY AND GORE.**_

**Across a Sea: Chapter Five**

* * *

An uneventful week had passed since the last incident regarding Craig's creepy harasser. Tweek's paranoia concerning it had ebbed away into him worrying over other things, like whether or not a massive comet would crash into the earth and destroy all of them, or if prehistoric zombies would rise from the ground and attempt to overtake the world. It kept him up at night, the very concept of such, resulting in Tweek gnawing at his dull nails with darting eyes. He'd gasp at every creak and twitch at the slightest semblance of sound, wide awake until his sleep medication eventually kicked in. Clyde seemed occupied with keeping Craig's nervousness at bay anyway, showering him with constant hugs and pats.

It was a Saturday night when Tweek received a call from Craig. He'd been brewing a new pot of coffee for himself, around 7:00 PM, when his cell phone began to ring. Curiously, he pulled it out, to discover that his friend was dialing him. It was an odd feeling, to have Craig Tucker call him so late, but Tweek wasn't unused to Craig sending him text messages at odd hours. Usually they were inconsequential, though. Rarely was it that Craig called, being that he had difficulty keeping up conversations.

"H-hello?" He keened into the line as he tried to pour himself a cup of coffee, careful not to burn his sensitive fingers.

There was silence for a moment, and as it drew on, Tweek's eyebrows furrowed.

"...Craig?" He tried, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

"...Tweek." Came the response. Craig sounded tired, almost breathless.

"Gah!" Tweek yelped as he cringed, spilling a bit of coffee and wiping it up with his sleeve. "I-is something wrong, man?"

Silence was the momentary answer, before finally, Craig released a shuddery breath into Tweek's ear. "Can you come over?"

Tweek paused, looking down at the steaming mug of fresh coffee. But Craig was more important to him than coffee. "...Yeah, man. I'm- I'm coming."

Tweek was out the door in a moment, pulling on a thin coat that Clyde had got him for his previous birthday. Craig sounded urgent, as urgent as he'd ever heard someone so laid-back and generally calm, even in the most unconventional of manners. Tweek didn't want to think about what that could have meant. The blond young man huffed into the darkness, watching as his white breath became one of the few things visible in the soft glow of the streetlights contrasting against the inky night sky. His shoes crunched into the snow that lined the sidewalks, and Tweek distantly registered that blank flurries of snow were trailing from the sky. Tweek looked to them for a few seconds, almost wistfully, as they ultimately blanketed the world around him.

His hand reached out and caught a particularly large flake. It immediately melted in his hand. Tweek stared at his hand momentarily, and felt it grow cold outside his pocket. He only took a moment to contemplate the omen of such, before he briskly strode down the next block or so to Craig's house.

The Tucker household was like a beacon in the darkness. The streetlights, with their dim, bleary white light, paled in contrast to the smoldering yellow of Craig's porch light. Tweek advanced upon the porch carefully, knowing that sometimes Craig's porch steps got icy. Just as he rapped his knuckles against the wooden door, it opened. Tweek shrieked in surprise, only to be caught truly off guard by the atmosphere of what he saw.

Craig opened the door wordlessly, his hand clutching the knob painfully tight. His eyes were immeasurably tired, sinking to the ground without even peeking up to acknowledge that it was, in fact, Tweek Tweak whom he'd opened the door for. His face was sheet white, save for the ashen rings around his bloodshot eyes and his vaguely reddened nose. He had been crying.

"Craig? What's... What's wrong?" Tweek breathed out, hesitantly resting his spindly hand upon his friend's shoulder.

"Come in." Craig responded, his voice drawn down into a plaintive whisper.

He turned to ascend the stairs, leaving Tweek to follow. Tweek did as such, carefully shutting the door behind him as he wandered into the dark, quiet house. The Tucker home had been this quiet ever since Ruby's death, but it now held an even more ominous aspect to it as Tweek shivered, approaching the top of the stairs. Craig's door was wide open, his light the only one on.

Craig _always_ shut his door and turned off his lights. It was one of his habits. Even if he was only going to leave his room for thirty seconds, it was still something he did. It was one of his quirks that made Tweek feel a bit more normal. Seeing Craig's compulsion go ignored set Tweek on edge, and he felt his fingers flutter to the edge of his shirt to twist the fabric.

Just as they made it to the doorway, Craig turned around, blocking Tweek's entrance. His eyebrows were drawn downwards and a solid frown was set on his stony face.

"Today, while I was at the store, someone broke in." He explained solemnly. Tweek had almost forgotten that Craig did his own grocery shopping.

"Arrhnn! Oh n-no, did they steal anything? Oh God!" Tweek choked out as he twisted his neck. "They're not still here, are they? Holy crap man!" He instantly felt the need to protect Craig - and himself - from the alleged intruder.

Craig's face twisted into something that bordered upon pity for him, and he stepped to the side to allow Tweek into his bedroom. Tweek twitched but shuffled in, glancing this way and that. He examined Craig's room, giving it a once over to find that nothing was out of place - until his eyes settled upon Craig's guinea pig cage. There was a red splotch, and on impulse, Tweek meandered forward, squinting to get a better glance. What he saw was not Stripe II and Pecan - at least, not in the way that Tweek had known them.

The first thing that Tweek saw were the intestines, swirled in intricate patterns, primarily compromised of circles that lined the bottom of the cage. Stripe II's severed head lie in one corner, his jawline stretched wider than it was meant to have been, effectively having been snapped in half. His left eye was smashed into the woodchips at the bottom, a mess of black and red and white as it lay in place, the other eye wide open, facing towards the ceiling. His fur was matted down from blood, and it oozed from his open neck, alongside tiny veins and flesh that had torn unevenly. The rest of his body had been pressed into the ground as unidentifiable gore, squashed to the point at which it was nothing more than a pile of blood and guts. The only part of it that was recognizable one half of a ribcage.

On the opposing side of the cage laid Pecan's upper half of her body. Her limbs had all been separately torn off, and were all pushed into her bleeding mouth. It looked as though her face was stretched wider than it was supposed to be, the corners of her tiny lips splitting into two and dripping blood onto the already soiled wood chips below. Her spine stretched out from the end of her upper half of the body. The bottom half seemed to also partially compromise the gore that was Stripe II's mess. In the center of the cage, where the surprisingly lengthy intestines halted, lay two small guinea pig hearts, sitting upon each other and effectively impaled by a pocket knife with a golden brim. It was Craig's comfort item, his prized possession that he never let anyone touch, having been the weapon of torture for these two small rodents.

Tweek released a gut wrenching scream when he finally took in what he saw, and stumbled backwards, before vomiting on the floor. Craig watched him all the while, eyes dark and unrelentingly plaintive. His pale hand faltered against the doorframe and he kept his gaze directly on Tweek, even as the blond puked on his otherwise pristine carpet.

"J-J-J…" Tweek stammered out as he fumbled over his steps, dragging himself over to Craig and pressing two rumbling hands to his shoulders. "_Jesus_- man, I-"

"I know." Craig's voice was harshly desperate, as though he didn't even want to see Tweek mourn, let alone mourn himself. "I know."

"Who- who?" Tweek breathed out, his eyes slinking towards the cage once more before snapping towards his friend. "Who would do something like that? Oh my _God_-"

"I don't know." Craig's voice hitched and his eyelids began to shake, before he squeezed them shut altogether. "I don't- I don't even know how they got ahold of my…"

"Your knife," Tweek gasped. "Did you let anyone use it?" He knew the answer before the inquiry even left his mouth.

"Of course not," Craig's hissed out, jerking away from Tweek's grasp. "I don't anyone touch it. It's _mine_. I don't even know how it got out of my pocket…"

Tweek didn't press any further, instead pulling Craig into a tight hug. Just as tightly as he'd hugged him when Ruby had passed. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Craig's ear, chanting the two words again and again. "I'm sorry."

Craig's shoulders shook terribly before he let himself go. "Me too-" he breathed out.

The sounds of his sobs broke Tweek's heart, and he stayed with Craig the whole night, never letting those words go unsaid.

_I'm sorry._


	6. Chapter 6

**Across a Sea: Chapter Six**

* * *

_"Come back."_

_His voice was a whisper that echoed off of the tiles of the bathroom floor and into the hallway. Tweek twisted his fingers together in horror as he listened to Craig's desperate, dismal tone._

_"Come back, Ruby. I'm sorry."_

_His voice cracked, as though her death were his fault. As though he'd had something to do with Stephen Stotch's poor driving skills. Tweek twitched and trembled as he listened to Craig's heavy breathing just outside the bathroom door. Clyde was passed out in the bedroom and Tweek had only wanted to ask for an extra pillow. He never wanted to witness Craig's mourning._

_"I'm sorry."_

_The last thing Tweek heard before he rushed back to the bedroom was the shattering of the bathroom mirror._

* * *

"Sweet man, I haven't been to the arcade in forever. Come on, I have like, twenty dollars for tokens." Clyde was chattering away as he ushered Tweek in through the doorway.

"A-are you sure that it's safe? I mean, I don't want to like, pick up any weird diseases from germs left on the machines..." Tweek mumbled, staggering into the dark building. His eyes were assaulted by flashing lights.

"Don't worry, it gets cleaned pretty often." Clyde reassured him. "Besides, I'll protect you from any gross germs. I wash my hands every time I use the bathroom." Clyde winked.

Tweek smiled at Clyde's jocular aura, before taking a quick glance at his phone. He'd invited Craig to come with them, but ever since the incident with his guinea pigs, he'd refused to leave his house. It had been a whole week and he was staying almost exclusively in his room. Not like his parents had anything to say about it. Tweek and Clyde had visited him fairly often in that window of time, but Craig had expressed the desire to be left alone, so they let him be.

"Can you play DDR?" Clyde asked. "I want someone to go against."

"Agh!" Tweek shrieked as he saw the large gaming system, beckoning for two players. "I-I don't know, I'm not so good with... Dancing."

Clyde laughed. "Don't worry, it's not real dancing." He took Tweek by the hand and led him up onto the platform, before pushing in a few tokens.

Tweek felt his lips twitch into a soft grin at the feeling of Craig's hand on his own. Somehow, Clyde's physical reassurances were always comforting.

The dancing was awkward, fumbling around, and they both failed miserably, but Tweek had laughed the entire time, primarily because Clyde's sporadic movements were hilarious. They playfully pushed at each other when they got off, before searching around for another machine.

"Dude! Let's do this shooting thingy." Clyde exclaimed as he caught sight of a zombie game.

"Oh God!" Tweek let out a strangled whine. "I don't know, man. Zombies scare the shit outta me! P-plus, I can't really shoot well. My hands get all shaky and I..."

"It's okay Tweek," Clyde smiled at him warmly, guiding him to the game. "I'll help you."

"You will?" Tweek blinked up at him.

Clyde nodded and put the plastic gun in his hands, before positioning himself directly behind Tweek. Tweek could feel Clyde's chest pressed against his shoulder blades, the warmth radiating off of his friend and onto him. Clyde's long, thick arms wrapped around his sides, and his soft hands clutched Tweek's as he helped steady him. Tweek felt his breathing hitch at the proximity, but somehow, he felt incredibly relaxed in Clyde's hold. As the game started up, Tweek felt himself start to tremble once more.

"Christ," he hissed out. "I-I don't know if I can do this. Zombies fuck me up, man..."

"It's okay," Clyde's soothing voice breathed into his ear, chin resting against Tweek's shoulder. "Remember Tweek, you only see what you want to see."

"I-I only see what I want to see," Tweek repeated, and somehow, his breathing and posture began to steady once more.

"Hey! There you go," Clyde cheered him on as Tweek began to take out the digital undead. "Nice, man!"

"Th-thanks!" Tweek chirped out as he eradicated a full wave, ecstatic beneath Clyde's warm embrace.

A few tickets slid out when Tweek won and he collected them cheerfully, before handing half to Clyde. Clyde accepted them gratefully, ruffling Tweek's hair.

"You wanna give it a go?" Tweek gestured to the game that Clyde had been the one to suggest originally.

Clyde glanced over to it. "Well-"

"God dammit Butters, get outta here!"

Clyde and Tweek turned to see Eric Cartman, Butters Stotch, and Kenny McCormick positioned by the claw machine. Eric and Kenny were standing pretty close. Eric had his arms at his hips and Kenny maintained his neutral stance, while Butters was on the defensive, rubbing his knuckles together awkwardly, eyes cast downwards.

"I-I'm sorry fellas, I just wanted t-" He began, but was cut off by Cartman.

"This is a private hang out between Kinny and I, and we didn't invite you, you fuckin' fag." Cartman snapped.

Kenny mumbled something, garnering a quick, far less heated glance from Eric, before he seemed semi-rueful and nodded.

"...Okay, not 'fag', since that's a homophobic slur, but you're still an invasive vagina face." Cartman nodded.

Tweek blinked, wondering why Eric Cartman gave a shit about anything in relation to slurs. As though he read his mind, Clyde piped up.

"I heard him and Kenny were really into the whole LGBTQ rights thing. Who would've guessed, right?" Clyde chuckled awkwardly, his laughter a pitch too high to be comfortable.

"But I have no one else to a-hang out with," Butters pleaded.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you had your dad hit that Tucker girl with his car, shouldn't you?" Eric scoffed, before he began to turn away. "God, what a douchebag."

Tweek tensed instantly, and Clyde's hand was on his shoulder, massaging it. Butters' shoulders sunk in defeat as Cartman and Kenny walked away, before he seemed to take notice of the two eavesdroppers. He looked over to them, eyebrows creasing when he made eye contact with Tweek. He looked as though he was about to say something, but Clyde's hand was intertwined with Tweek's before any more interaction could occur.

"Let's play some more games."

And they did as such, playing for the next hour or so before they decided to break for food. The entire time that they'd been hanging out, Tweek felt surprisingly calm. His thoughts, which normally bounced from fear to fear, refused to stray from Clyde's sense of humor when they were together. As they split some nachos, Clyde continued to joke away, before he finally excused himself to go to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Clyde rested a hand on his shoulder, before sliding it off as he walked away.

Tweek nodded and sipped his drink, watching as Clyde departed into the restroom. He wasn't gone for more than a minute before suddenly, Tweek was approached by someone else.

"H-hey there, Tweek Tweak," the hesitant voice of Butters Stotch sounded from just behind him.

Tweek shrieked and spun around in his chair to face him. "Oh God! What do you want?"

"Well um," Butters clacked his knuckles together awkwardly. "I just wanted to uh, talk to you."

"Nuh uh!" Tweek shook his head furiously. "Stay away from me!" He had forbade himself from making any contact with the Stotches ever since the Ruby accident.

"But I-"

"No!" Tweek yelped. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want anything to do with you!"

He found himself having screamed the last bit, and tears welled up in Butters' eyes, but he gave a soft nod of resignation and spun around, running off. Tweek sat in his chair, stiff yet trembling as he clutched his drink tightly. It caused his hands to freeze as his fingers clamped around the plastic cup, but he somehow couldn't let it go.

"That was pretty harsh of you."

Tweek looked up in shock, only to see Token Black, standing beside Jimmy Valmer and Kevin Stoley.

"Sweet Jesus, why are people talking to me all of a sudden?" Tweek released a strangled scream as he yanked at his hair violently. _Oh God, where is Clyde when I need him?_

"Sorry," Token's voice was sensitive. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Y-y-yeah, Tweek, h-he j-j-j-just wanted to say h-hi." Jimmy added, receiving a nod from that Stoley kid, who made Tweek even more nervous than before.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you guys!" He cried out, twitching harshly and watching as his drink slosh around in his cup.

"Did Tucker tell you that?" Token demanded, voice suddenly stern and rough. "He's always so..."

"No!" Tweek ground out. "I don't wanna talk to you guys- well, I don't mind J-Jimmy, but..."

Jimmy smiled at that sentiment, but Token's gaze seemed to darken. "Listen, just because I stopped talking to Craig doesn't mean that I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"I don't want to be your friend!" Tweek snapped. "D-do you have any idea how much you hurt Craig? No one like that is a f-friend of mine!"

"Come on dude, let's just go play some games," Kevin Stoley placed a hand on his shoulder.

Token sighed and nodded, before he smiled almost gently at Tweek. "Listen, I know about people like Craig. And I'm here for you if you ever need help."

With those words, the trio turned away and walked off. Tweek stared at them, before turning back to his table and drinking nervously. Thinking of what had just happened was too overwhelming for him, so he settled for thinking of Clyde, who always seemed to calm him down. And yet, that was when he realized that Clyde had been gone for an awful long time. He stayed in place, jittering as he polished off his half of the nachos, waiting for another ten minutes before he decided he absolutely had to check up on his friend.

He walked awkwardly in the direction of the bathroom, clamping his fingers together as he pulled the fabric of his shirt. Upon opening the door, he was met with a frightening sight.

"Oh God!" Tweek cried out.

One of the porcelain sinks had a large crack down the center, dripping water down onto the dank floor. Littering the floor were drops and a few smears of fresh blood, and in the center of it, was Clyde's phone, surprisingly unharmed. The window that was around six or so feet off the ground was broken open, shattered glass decorating the white tiles.

"Clyde?" Tweek whimpered, despite knowing that he was alone in the bathroom. "S-"

He turned and rushed out of the bathroom, back into the arcade room. "Someone! Someone help!" He shouted, gathering a few glances.

Eric Cartman and Kenny McCormick exchanged looks before peeking over. Jimmy Valmer and Kevin Stoley looked up from where they were perched behind the claw machine. Token Black and Butters Stotch were no where to be seen.

The next few things were a rush. After explaining rapidly what he'd seen in the bathroom to one of the employees, they'd gone to check it out, before a full fledged panic attack occurred and police began to swarm to the vicinity. Tweek stayed after, attempting to get any information he could, but unfortunately the police gave him nothing he didn't already know; all they could conclude was that there had been a struggle, that Clyde's phone was all that was left, and that Clyde Donovan was missing.

Tweek panicked. He ran from the arcade when he finished his interrogation, running fast and hard. The snow swirled around him wildly, coming down in wide flakes in the inky evening. The wind whipped at his skin as he dashed to the only place he could think of to go. The yellow light of Tucker's porch did nothing to soothe him.

"Craig? Craig! Open up!" Tweek near sobbed as he pounded at the door. "Please!"

There was silence as Tweek waited, his nose reddened from the tears that leaked from his eyes as he wrung his hands. He didn't have to wait very long in the snow, thankfully, before Craig opened the door. His eyes looked tired, but not as though he'd been sleeping. As though he'd been doing something strenuous.

"Tweek?" He mumbled. "What's wrong?"

"Clyde's gone missing," Tweek felt the tears leaving his eyes just as rapidly as the words did from his mouth. "Clyde's gone missing- someone kidnapped him, there was a 'struggle' and I know because there was blood all over the arcade bathroom and his phone was there and he's gone, he's gone, and he could be really hurt and I-"

"Tweek." Craig managed to silence him as he pulled him inside.

The house felt no warmer than the snow storm brewing in the streets of South Park. In fact, it almost felt colder. But Tweek curled up against Craig, crying against the fabric of his worn tee shirt.

They watched the snow rampage against the wind outside Craig's window, in his room, which he'd managed to empty for the most part since the ordeal concerning his guinea pigs. They stayed together, drinking coffee (Craig knew it would make Tweek feel safer), and throughout the night, all was silent save for the wind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Across a Sea: Chapter Seven**

* * *

Tweek stared at the calendar, his eyes tired despite the wideness to which they were stretched.

It had been a full week since Clyde's uncanny disappearance. There were thus far no leads, and somehow, Tweek couldn't help but believe that the police were doing nothing to find him. That simply was how law enforcement was in the town of South Park. Something horrible happened, and everyone had this attitude of 'there's nothing we can do about it', so they didn't lift a finger. Tweek cursed the corrupt justice system. They'd done nothing to help Ruby Tucker, and now they were doing nothing to help Clyde Donovan! It disgusted Tweek, making him never want to trust cops (which was something he had trouble doing anyway, what with his wild theories about the government).

Clyde was something that refused to leave Tweek's mind.

"I'm just scared," he'd explained to Craig as they walked to first period that Tuesday morning. "I'm just scared of what could happen to him. Wh-what already might have happened to him. Oh Jesus!"

"Me too," Craig replied, although he didn't sound so worried.

"I don't get why someone would take Clyde. Clyde! He's s-so nice... Why would someone do that? Unless they really hated him? I don't get it man, I don't get it! It's frying my brain!" Tweek pulled at his hair. "Who would hate Clyde? I can't think of anyone!"

Except for that person who was harassing Craig, the person who had left a message threatening his friends, but Tweek thought better than to actually mention that, especially in public.

"Stop thinking about it." Craig told him. "Everything will work out for the best, Tweek. Just stop thinking about it."

Something made Tweek feel like there were more to his words than he was letting on, as though perhaps that had been Craig's own coping method for getting over what had happened to Ruby. Once again, he didn't voice his thoughts on the matter, knowing that some subjects were incredibly touchy with Craig.

"I can't," he whined as they seated themselves at their desks. "I just- I can't! He's one of my best fr-friends."

"Mine too." Craig's voice held a tinge of annoyance to it now. "Just think about something else."

"Like what?" Tweek sighed as he traced some scratches in his desk. "Everything else just makes me worry!"

"Then think about something that makes you worry less." Craig sighed.

"B-but I just can't stop thinking about him! I-I don't want anything bad to happen to him," Tweek released a dreadful groan from the back of his throat.

"Are you guys talking about Clyde?" Piped up Stan Marsh from the desk beside them.

Craig glanced over, his gaze darkening. "What's it to you, Marsh?"

Stan frowned. "Hey, I'm worried too. Clyde's a good kid."

Kyle seemed to take this as his opportunity to chime in as well. "Yeah, Clyde's not bad. I hope they find him soon, and in one piece."

Tweek shrieked at this. "Wh-what do you mean? Of course he'll be in one piece... Oh my God! You don't think that someone dismembered him, do you? Oh Christ no!"

Kyle looked a bit taken back, and Stan elbowed him before speaking up. "Uh, no dude. Probably not."

"Or sold him into prostitution?" Tweek yanked at his hair and squirmed in his seat at the terrifying thought. "Oh Christ!"

"Stop worrying about it," Craig's voice was a bit harsher now.

The teacher glanced up from his book before sighing and allowing them to continue on. Tweek bit his lip and Stan and Kyle exchanged a worried glance.

"Don't worry dude, it'll be okay," Kyle attempted to reassure him.

"What if it isn't, though? What if Clyde isn't okay? Good Lord! I don't know what I'd do without him!" Tweek cried out.

"Just stop!" Craig snapped, his voice cracking on the second word with it's volume. "Stop thinking about Clyde!"

All eyes were suddenly on Craig, and his gaze immediately turned from the scowl it had adopted into an expression of remorse. Tweek stared up at him in shock, his mouth open just slightly as his brows creased, attempting to register the fact that Craig had just _yelled_ at him.

"Mr. Tucker, is there a problem?" The teacher's condescending voice droned from beyond the desk, receiving a sharp shake of the head from the student he was addressing.

"Damn dude, what's your deal?" Stan glared at him.

"I'm... Sorry, Tweek." Craig ground out, looking away. His face heated up in embarrassment at having to publicly apologize.

Tweek blinked rapidly. "Craig..."

"I'm just worried too," Craig muttered, before he cradled his head in his arms on the desk.

Tweek gazed down at him, and his shock dwindled away, skipping over sadness and directly into pity. He realized that this was clearly hitting Craig a lot harder than he'd initially assumed.

And the police were doing nothing to remedy the situation.

Tweek's brows lowered into determination and he pulled out a paper to form a list of things to do, deciding that he'd have to take the Donovan investigation into his own hands.

He thought of all the things he could do - going to the police station and attempting to find clues via Clyde's phone, which was considered evidence, attempting to connect the dots with Craig's sporadic stalker, and going back to the scene of the crime for anything suspicious. They all seemed like viable options to him, actions that he would act upon as soon as he was released from school. Craig remained in his curled up position for the remainder of their study hall, while Tweek devised his plan, and he felt a sudden urge swell within him. The urge to find the truth.

_Don't worry Clyde_, Tweek thought to himself._ I'm going to find you._


	8. Chapter 8

**Across a Sea: Chapter Eight**

* * *

_"I hate him." Craig's voice was bitter, and Tweek knew that it was not a moment to deny him._

_Clyde glanced up from where he'd been looking though Craig's empty fridge. "Dude, do you ever use this thing?" He apparently hadn't heard Craig._

_Craig let him go unanswered. "I want him to know what it's like," his voice dropped to a whisper._

_"Who?" Clyde asked as he sat next to him._

_"The Stotch kid."_

_Craig's voice was so sinister as he stared out the window, hands firmly clenching his knees while he watched Butters walk down the street, trailing after Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski._

_"I want him to know."_

_Clyde's hand wrapped around Tweek's beneath the table, and they watched Craig as he unraveled his emotions before them._

* * *

From his visit to the police station, Tweek had discovered something interesting.

First, he'd found that it was, in fact, Clyde's blood for sure that was spilled all over the arcade bathroom. If there was anyone else's mixed in, they couldn't identify it. He thanked the loose lipped police man before deciding to go onto his next order of business.

He'd felt a bit guilty reading through Clyde's text messages and searching through his call records, but he knew it was for the best. And it had proven fruitful; he'd discovered that just before he'd gone missing, Clyde had calls with two people.

The first one had been Craig Tucker. It was a call that lasted for about thirty seconds, apparently. The second was Butters Stotch. That one lasted about fifteen. Because of the model that Clyde's phone was, he couldn't tell who had initiated the call, but he knew that they were there.

Craig's call had been about an hour before he'd disappeared, but Tweek couldn't recall Clyde using his phone at all within the time that they'd spent together. Still, it might've been something. On the other hand, Butters' call had been just minutes before Clyde had apparently been kidnapped, which meant that he'd been on the phone with Butters for about fifteen seconds while in the restroom. Which, to Tweek, meant that it was probably _after_ Butters had approached him. Which, in a way, horrified Tweek. Butters had approached them both separately, and just before Clyde had gone missing. It was definitely something, it just had to be.

Unfortunately, tracking his steps back in the arcade bathroom hadn't been as helpful as going through Clyde's phone. Not only had it been patched up since the last time he was there, but there really hadn't been much evidence to begin with. Still, he was determined not to lose hope. He'd had quite a bit of information backing him up now.

First off, he was sure that Clyde had been attacked in the restroom and kidnapped. That much was blatant. Second, he had made communication with Craig and Butters before disappearing. Third, he was positive that this was linked with Craig's stalker. Tweek thought back to when Craig had first received that threatening note - the strange look that Butters had given them was suspicious to start off with but bordered on evidence at this point. He thought of how Butters had been missing when Craig's lunch was poisoned and his window had that strange message written on it, telling him to 'watch out for his friends'. Butters knew where Craig lived, because they'd hung out a few times back in elementary and middle school. It was starting to become more and more obvious, the more that Tweek looked at it.

He knew he had to confront Butters Stotch.

Tweek had sturdied himself as he walked along the street, clutching his backpack tightly to his shoulder. It was a Saturday when he decided to go through with it, but he kept his bag with him to make himself feel more secure. It was filled with two coffee thermoses, a few notebooks containing his thoughts on Clyde's disappearance, and a sandwich.

"I can do this," he whispered as he turned onto the block where Butters lived. "I can do this - f-for Clyde... And Craig."

He wondered what Butters would do. If Butters would try and kill him, too. Try to mutilate him like he did Craig's guinea pigs. Despite the gruesome thoughts floating through his mind, Tweek was relatively calm about the whole endeavor. And yet somehow, he had a hunch that Butters wasn't behind all of this. Butters had never been a bad kid. A bit touchy and involved with the wrong people, yes, but a murderer? A kidnapper? It felt wrong to Tweek. When he finally made his way before Butters' house, he found something inexplicable and startling.

Craig was leaving the Stotch household, just shutting the door behind him as Tweek approached.

"Gah! Cr-Craig? What are you doing here?" He gasped out.

Craig turned around, his face the picture of surprise. "Tweek?"

"What are you doing here?" He repeated, this time a bit softer.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Craig shot back, a frown growing on his face.

"I went to the police station and found out that B-Butters called Clyde just before he went m-missing. I wanted to know what it was about..." Tweek trailed off, recalling that Craig had a call with him too. "I found out that you called him t-too. Do you remember what you guys talked about?"

Craig stared at him for a few moments, entirely silent. His eyes were blank, if not dark, as they peered down upon him from the porch. A soft breeze bristled through a nearby tree, causing a dead leaf to fall and land on the steps between them.

When Tweek realized that he was not going to get an answer, he swallowed the forming lump in his throat. "...What _are_ you doing here, Craig?"

"I... Got this note," Craig said uncomfortably. He took a few steps down so that he was on ground level with Tweek, crunching the dead leaf on his way, before pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

It read:

_'Meet me at the Stotch house if you want to know who's behind your torment, Tucker'_

Tweek stared at the note for several moments. Something about it felt terribly, terribly wrong.

"But no one was here," Craig elaborated. "So I was just going to go home."

"Craig," Tweek's voice was hoarse as it finally clicked, and the note slipped from his hand and onto the sidewalk beneath him. "This... This is your handwriting."

Craig stared at him for a few moments, before his eyes flickered to the fallen note and he reluctantly picked it up. "...What are you talking about?" He inquired slowly.

"That's your handwriting," Tweek pointed to the note. He felt himself begin to shake.

He recognized Craig's signature writing anywhere. Immediately, Tweek's thoughts flickered back to the bloody message that had been written on Craig's window weeks before. Also suspiciously in Craig's handwriting.

Tweek was trembling harshly now, and suddenly, Craig's expression transitioned from confusion into defensiveness.

"No it's not," he disagreed, before squinting at the lettering, attempting to find some way to prove Tweek wrong. It didn't seem like he could find anything.

"Where's Butters?" Tweek questioned, glancing behind Craig's shoulder, into the empty house.

"I don't know," Craig replied, his voice now holding a bit of a peeved angle to it. "Like I said, he wasn't there... No one was."

_He forged the note. He forged the note so that he would have an excuse to be here._

Tweek took a step back, looking at Craig in a new light. For some reason, the breakfast he'd eaten that morning felt as though it were rotting in the confines of his stomach, spoiling from within, sour bile rising in his throat as it begged to be let loose.

_You only see what you want to see._

The words from Clyde ran through his head like alarm bells, and he started to realize the horrific truth to them. That they applied more than to monsters under one's bed. They applied even to monsters that disguised themselves as your friends.

"I-I have to go," Tweek choked out, and before he could even get a response, he was sprinting down the sidewalk, the soles of his worn out shoes beating heavily against the concrete.

He could hear Craig yelling after him, but somehow, it only made tears prick his eyes as the realization dawned upon him that there was something very, very _wrong_ with Craig. Of course he'd seen the signs. They all had. But he thought it would only fade with time. Now Tweek came to the unforeseen revelation that he should have listened to Token all along. Of course Craig had pinned this whole mess on Butters, it was so obvious now!

_You only see what you want to see._

As Tweek darted into his house and locked every window and door, the primary question that was darting through his mind was why? Why had Craig framed Butters? Had he been behind this whole 'stalking' mess all along? Why would he have done such a thing? Why would he have gone so far as to kill his own guinea pigs? To kidnap one of his best friends?

A broken sob wracked Tweek's frame as he stared at his last message from Clyde, wishing that he could have his friend back. He read the digital words over and over until they blurred with his tears.

_'hope you had a good day. ill see you at the arcade in 5 mins. dont text back if it makes you anxious. love you dude'_


	9. Chapter 9

**Across a Sea: Chapter Nine**

* * *

Tweek stared listlessly at his ceiling, miserable.

He had been avoiding Craig like the plague for just under a week, ever since the fear of his supposed friend had crept on him like a snake in the darkness. Craig was, of course, initially livid at the refusal to be acknowledged (what with Tweek sitting as far away from him as possible and doing his best to hide from him during lunch - alongside not responding to his texts or even his calls). Gradually, however, he seemed sad, almost, but Tweek knew it had to have been an act. There was something wrong with Craig.

He continuously repeated that sentiment to himself - _there's something wrong with him -_ and it acted like a plausible reason to doubt their friendship. The concept of Craig Tucker being so foul and corrupted beneath his semi-ordinary exterior frightened Tweek to no end. Of course he knew there was something wrong with Craig. He'd known it for a long time. He'd known, Clyde had known, Token had known, maybe even Craig himself had known. But never could Tweek have suspected that he'd truly snap and do the things that, in Tweek's mind, had done.

Tweek had, over mulling on the whole situation, come to the conclusion that there was no stalker. There was no harassment, even. Craig had staged all of it, to the most minimal of details. He had sent himself that note. He had poisoned his own lunch, had written on his own window, had hurt himself in the depths of night at Tweeks' house. Oh God, it made so much sense now! He had tackled Clyde because he wanted to kill him. The excuse that he'd thought Clyde was his attacker was just that - an _excuse_. He had killed his own guinea pigs to garner attention and sympathy from Tweek, using his own pocket knife that he never let anyone else so much as touch. He had called Clyde just before he kidnapped him.

It was so clear to Tweek now that he felt stupid for not noticing it earlier.

Tweek was miserable about the entirety of the situation, and the worst part of it was that Butters Stotch had been missing ever since that Saturday when Craig had entered the Stotch household. This time there was no evidence of any struggle. He was simply gone.

Tweek loved Craig - he was his best friend.

But Tweek knew that he wanted to survive, and he wanted to survive more than he wanted a best friend.

He didn't want to fall to the same fates as Stripe II or Pecan or Butters Stotch or Clyde Donovan. Clyde... The thought of him brought tears to Tweek's eyes. He missed him so, so very much.

Clyde had always been the more emotive, supportive of the two. Craig never really knew how to comfort people, and so he didn't, simply telling them to "get over it" despite the fact that he still had his own demons that he was battling and expected others to care for him. Clyde, on the other hand, was always there to lay a hand on Tweek's shoulder or nestle him in a warm hug. He was always there to suggest a pleasantly distracting activity and go out of his way to help Tweek, and God, he missed that more than anything at the moment.

Token had been right all along.

Tweek thumbed over the contact that he still had saved on his phone. There Token's number was, shining brightly in the dimness of his room. It was a Friday, and normally, Tweek would be eating pizza with Craig and Clyde by this time. It was somewhere around 3:00 PM, but there he was, stuck home alone as his parents worked the coffee shop, not to return until late that night.

Why did things have to change?

Rain pattered against his thin glass window, the sky a dreary gray with a tint of blue. Tweek watched the intricate shadows dance upon his ceiling and released a shuddering sigh, before suddenly, he heard a pounding noise from downstairs.

It was light at first, a casual knocking, but it caused Tweek to tense, and when he scampered downstairs to glance through the peep hole, he found none other than Craig Tucker himself standing there, tapping upon his door.

Tweek muffled a shriek into his hands and put the secondary lock on the door, backing away. The knocking increased in volume and Tweek could tell that Craig was agitated by being ignored.

"Tweek! Open up," Craig called to him, voice annoyed but quiet from beyond the barrier. "I know you're in there!"

Tweek backed away, and his breathing began to pick up as he listened to Craig's knuckles rapping against the door transition into him smacking his palm against the wood almost violently.

"Come on! I just want to fucking talk." Craig growled, and Tweek felt tears prick in his eyes.

He was choking, and the world was dipping and he couldn't _breathe_. Tweek sprinted away from the menacing sounds of the door, listening to Craig's pounding grow distant. Tweek rushed into the basement, down the spindling wooden stairs. He didn't bother to turn on the light. Although the basement freaked him out because it was dark and gross, he knew it was probably the safest place to be at the moment. Tweek maneuvered through the darkness anxiously, feeling a full fledged panic attack begin to overwhelm his senses. He hid between the furnace and a couple of old, moldy cardboard boxes, attempting to quiet his breathing. There was no way that Craig could get in through those double bolted locks-

A crashing sound was heard from upstairs and Tweek physically jolted, covering his mouth to hide the scream that threatened to escape his throat.

_He broke a window. He broke a window. He broke a window._

Tweek heard the thud of someone's feet, no doubt Craig's, distinctly landing on the floor. He heard his footsteps, slow and heavy, as Craig walked through the foyer.

_He's inside my house._

"Tweek?" Craig called out quietly. "Come on, I'm sorry about the window, and whatever else I did. Can you just come out and talk to me?"

Tweek was crying now, his nose running and his eyes watering as his face reddened and he tried to still his trembling frame. Craig's footsteps were approaching the door of the basement and he heard the door creak open. He needed help. He needed help.

"...Tweek?" Craig sounded shockingly calm - _too_ calm - as he peered down the steps of the basement.

Tweek stiffened in his hiding place, and he felt his face grow soaked with his own tears.

Craig began to slowly descend the staircase, and Tweek tried desperately to stop his swelling heartbeat as it pounded in his skull. He needed help.

"Tweek." Craig murmured. "Tweek."

He scrunched his eyes shut as Craig drew close and slowly, slowly, _slowly_ passed him by. Craig seemed to walk around aimlessly, checking the basement in the darkness.

_Someone, someone help me..._

"Come on, dude. I just want to talk to you." His voice, with it's unwavering gentility scared Tweek, because he _knew_ it was an act.

Craig sighed, before he seemed to give up on that section of the house, and began to ascend the stairs once more. Just when he closed the door, Tweek turned on his phone, furiously attempting to call Token.

"Hello?" Token's kind voice radiated through the speaker. He had picked up quickly, no doubt wanting to answer Tweek as soon as possible.

"Help!" Tweek shrieked out into the mic, loudly. Too loud.

Loud enough that Craig had heard him. Tweek's voice always had that problem with it - he tended to scream things he'd meant to say because he was freaked out and had no control and oh God, Craig had slammed the door open and was stomping down the steps quickly and Tweek was shriveling up in his hiding place -

"Tweek!" Craig groaned as he made his way to the bottom of the steps.

Tweek could only see his silhouette in the darkness, but he imagined his face, wide eyed with tilted brows, eyes grazing the vicinity in hopes of seeing his next victim.

"Tweek, what's going on?" Token's voice questioned reluctantly from the speaker, and Tweek watched in horror as Craig's face snapped in his direction.

He shrieked and, in his panic, dropped the phone. It clattered to the cement floor and Craig was advancing upon him quickly - too quickly - and Tweek scrambled from his spot, pushing the moldy boxes out of his way as he clambered towards the back where it was messier.

"Come on dude!" Craig called to him, his voice exasperated and a tad peeved as he punted the fallen box from his path.

Tears were running down Tweek's face as he hyperventilated and made his way through the clutter, doing the best he could to throw Craig off his trail as he bee lined towards the steps. If he could get up in time, he could lock the basement door on Craig and escape.

Craig was fast though, with longer legs, his height not having the disadvantage that Tweek did from years of being stunted by coffee. Tweek cried out as he felt Craig grasp his bony wrist and attempt to force him around. Craig pulled him forth, breathing heavily, a low growl bubbling up from his throat.

"Stop running." He demanded.

Tweek sobbed out and smacked Craig right in the face, his bony knuckles making direct contact with his nose. Craig gasped and released him immediately, stumbling backwards. In the darkness, Tweek could barely make out the blood gushing from his nostrils. Tweek wasted no time in running off, bounding up the stairs with speed he didn't know he'd been capable of achieving. Craig was at his heels again, the blood running down his pale visage, but Tweek managed to slam the door just in time to separate them, clicking the lock in place just as Craig attempted to ram it open.

"TWEEK!" Craig bellowed, his voice thick with rage. "OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Tweek sobbed and shook his head, his frame trembling. "No! There's something wrong with you, you need _help_, Craig!"

There was a loud bang, the door shuddering, as Craig attempted to force it open. "TWEEK!" He yelled.

Tweek released a petrified snivel and began to run away from the door. Craig no doubt heard his footsteps and began to pound against the door angrily. He continuously shouted Tweek's name, over and over, but his voice grew distant and muffled as Tweek ran up the stairs, this time into his parents bedroom. He opened their closet and shut it quickly, holing himself up inside, disappearing behind their clothes. He'd called Token for help, and although he wasn't sure if Token would come over himself, he knew that he was a reliable guy and would probably do _something_.

He released a broken cry into his palm when he heard something break downstairs. Craig had broken through the basement door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Across a Sea: Chapter Ten**

* * *

_"Come on, don't you want to surprise him?" Clyde asked, his face twisted into an excited grin._

_"I-if you think it's a good idea..." Tweek murmured, his smile much more faint._

_Clyde pushed open Craig's window that lead into his living room, only for him and Tweek to be caught off guard by what they saw. Craig was there with his mother, throwing dinner plates onto the kitchen floor recklessly, his face dominated by a vicious scowl._

_"I don't care what you have to say!" Craig yelled sharply as he threw what must have been the fifth plate to the floor, before reaching into the cupboard for another._

_"Stop it!" His mother yelled back. "Fine, for God's sake, just stop breaking things!"_

_"I'll do whatever the Hell I want!" He snarled back. "I'll hang out with whoever I want, I'll stay up how late I want, and I'll break whatever I fucking want!" Another plate._

_"I don't care, all I said was that maybe you shouldn't hang out with that Tweek boy so much. He's-"_

_"He's my best friend!" Craig screamed, and this time he threw the plate at her. It hit her in the face, shattering against her, the shards breaking into her skin._

_Tweek turned away as Craig's mother screamed, his face full of horror, only to see Clyde, still watching. His eyes were frozen on the scene, lips in a thin, disapproving line._

_"L-let's go." He murmured, before he took Tweek's hand and led him away._

* * *

"Come OUT, Tweek!" Craig yelled from downstairs.

He listened as he heard door after door slam opened and closed, and he could have sworn he heard something else break. He stiffened in the place in the closer, tugging against his mothers wool coat for support.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Craig's voice echoed through the house, still livid.

Tweek felt his tears dampen the cloth._ That's such a lie._

Craig pounded up the stairs, his anger evident by how much weight he put in each step. Tweek shook, willing himself not to shriek when he heard the door to his parents bedroom slam open. It was forced open with such force that it shook the wall upon impact.

"You better fucking be in here," Craig growled. He tore the blanket from the bed, and through the shutters of the closet door, he saw Craig bend over to check beneath the bed. His face was so full of anger, dried blood leaving a trail from the opening of his nose to his chin, it shook Tweek even more, and he tried not to move, not to even _breathe_. Craig grunted as he looked in the corner, where the dresser might've hidden someone, before his eyes landed on the closet. Tweek felt new tears begin to fill the brims of his eyes and he pressed against the wall behind him, hoping that the clothes would hide him, fully knowing they wouldn't.

Craig stomped towards the door and yanked it open. His eyes instantly met with Tweek's, and Tweek could have sworn he saw something within those eyes darken even further.

Just as Craig opened his mouth to say something, Tweek scrambled forward, pushing his legs out of the way as he ran from the room with as much strength as he could force into his legs. Craig fell backwards, hitting against the bed before he caught himself and grunting loudly. Tweek shut the bedroom door behind him with utter fear and dashed back downstairs.

Just as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, he heard knocking at the door.

"Tweek! Are you in there?" It was Token!

Tweek whipped around as he heard his parents' door from upstairs open, his whole body shaking, but he rushed to open the door for Token. Never in his life had he opened the locks so fast. He pulled it open, his breath escaping his lips with frightened anxiety, just as he saw his wide eyed savior standing there.

"Tweek!" Token exclaimed.

But Craig was already coming down the stairs, now full of anger, and he yanked Tweek away from the door by his collar with extreme force.

"Get out of here!" Craig snarled at Token, his eyes wide with fury.

"What the Hell did you do?" Token snapped back, stepping in and pushing Craig away from Tweek.

"None of your fucking business! Just get the fuck out!" Craig growled.

"Tweek, I'll handle him," Token glanced over to the blond, who was panicking full force at this point, his breathing loud and wheezing.

Craig turned just to see Tweek run up the stairs. This time he ran towards his bedroom, and he quickly entered, shutting the door behind him and searching for the house phone he kept under the bed. He'd begged his father to install one there years ago for situations just like this one. As he blindly searched beneath the bed, he finally grasped the cord and released a shaking breath. He was going to call the police, and then this whole mess would be over-

Craig slammed the door open, his nostrils flaring with rage as he instantly laid his eyes upon Tweek's form. Token was just behind him, though, and punched him directly in the face.

"Get away from him you fucking psycho!" Token screamed, pounding his knuckles against Craig's cheek once more.

Craig fisted Token's shirt and slammed him up against the wall. "Shut the fuck up!" He hissed, kneeing him in the gut.

Tweek watched for a moment, his eyes wide and body frozen while he watched them assault each other. They wrestled back and forth, pushing each other, punching each other, kicking each other, and Tweek's fingers trembled far too hard for him to dial 9-1-1.

"You're a freak!" Token yelled in Craig's face.

Something in Craig truly lost control in that moment and he pushed Token against the glass of Tweek's window with such force that it shattered. Token fell from the broken window with a gasp, the broken pieces piercing his skin as he landed to the sidewalk below with a gut wrenching thud. His blood splattered out from beneath his body, and his head cracked against the pavement, bits of brain matter and skull scattering in the close vicinity. The life faded from his eyes instantly, but he remained staring at the sky above.

Tweek felt the scream leave his throat before he heard it.

Craig turned to him slowly, panting heavily as he faced him.

"I-I didn't mean to do that," Craig breathed deeply. His eyes were wide, regretful as they made contact with Tweek's.

Tweek whimpered out a sob and backed away from him, the phone falling from his hands as he shimmied up against the wall. He was shaking his head slowly, the tears leaving his eyes.

_He's going to kill me. I was right this whole time - he's going to kill me for real now. He knows I know, and he's going to kill me!_

"Tweek," Craig sounded scared. "Tweek-"

Tweek bolted away from him, pushing him to the side as he ran from the room. The glass dug into his bare feet painfully but he ignored it as he ran down the stairs, towards the living room, where the other house phone was placed. Craig howled with sheer wrath from behind him.

"Stop running!" Craig called to him. "Stop!"

He pushed Tweek down onto the floor just before he made it to the phone. Tweek shrieked as he fell, before he began to crawl to the corner, getting as far away from the menacing murderer as he could.

"I'm so fucking tired of chasing you," Craig snarled out. "I just wanted to fucking talk to you!"

Tweek stared up at him in terrified resignation, and his breathing eased at the knowledge that he was going to die.

"Now then, will you just listen?" Craig heaved out a shuddering breath as he cornered him, closing in.

Tweek blinked the tears away from his eyes.

"Just listen..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Across a Sea: Chapter Eleven**

* * *

"Just listen..."

Tweek felt his heart lurch and beat so hard, he swore it was going to burst, as Craig pulled a bit closer. Craig's face was tired and bloody, and all the wildness from before had faded into this expression of sincerity. Tweek knew he was faking it, and the stony coldness of Craig's visage scared him even more than the manic expression from before. He just wanted this to be all over. If Tweek were religious, he would have been praying right then.

Fresh tears escaped Tweek's eyes and he shook his head, pressing himself further against the wall.

"I didn't do anything," Craig tried to explain.

Tweek shook his head furiously and keened. "You j-just killed Token right in f-front of me!"

"It was an accident. Stop crying," Craig's voice broke, and he sounded on the verge of tears himself. "I didn't mean to. I-I'm sorry, for everything."

"You're going to kill me now, too." Tweek pulled at his hair violently.

Craig took a step closer, shaking his head. A shadowed figure appeared behind him. The lights in the room were off, which effectively made the person unclear. The only light was natural, pale streams filtering in through the window that Craig had broken in earlier. It accented Craig's dismal, solemn face as he stepped forward.

"Craig," Tweek whimpered, and covered one of his eyes with his trembling hand.

"I'm sor-"

Craig didn't even so much as get to finish his word before he gasped, and blood began to pool at his abdomen. He looked down in terror to see the end of a knife sticking through his stomach. The knife twisted and Tweek watched as Craig's knees buckled, before he fell to the floor, heaving loudly. Behind him, Clyde Donovan stepped forward, over his laying body. His left hand was covered in Craig's blood.

"Tweek," Clyde breathed out, his eyes wide, face paled. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Clyde!" Tweek exclaimed in shock. "Wh..."

Craig heaved out, and blood sputtered from his mouth, spraying out onto Tweek's bare feet. He reached out, and took hold of Tweek's loose hand, gazing up at him. His eyes were glassy and half lidded, eyebrows lifted in agony.

Tweek crawled forward, watching as Craig rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. From beneath his body, blood began to stretch out in a large red puddle. He was breathing hard, lungs struggling to gain oxygen as his life faded. With his free hand, he violently yanked the knife from his stomach, and fresh blood gushed from the opening. Craig hissed in pain.

"I'm-" He hacked up some more blood. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Tweek stared down at him and sniffed, but he was all out of tears. His fingers clenched around Craig's.

"Me too." Tweek whispered out, and he watched the life disappear from Craig's broken eyes.

Craig was dead.

Clyde dropped to his knees beside Tweek and pulled him into a hug. Tweek returned it, before he pulled away, eying Clyde in concern. He was about to ask Clyde where he'd been and what had happened to him and how he knew to save Tweek from Craig, but Clyde had already whipped out his phone and was dialing the police.

"Hello? Um, yes... There are two dead people here, and two injured. We need immediate help." He explained anxiously into the speaker, before relaying the address to 911 and shutting his phone.

He pulled Tweek into yet another hug the moment he was done, rocking him back and forth gently. Tweek felt the anxiety and panic wane from his system when wrapped in Clyde's comforting arms, and his breathing slowed. Clyde was warm, and soft, and alive, and very much not intending to hurt Tweek.

Outside the broken window, snow began to fall. Tweek thought back to when he had walked to Craig's house the night Craig had murdered his guinea pigs, and how the snow had fallen in the same, fluffy flakes they did now. His mind blanked as he watched them flutter to the ground innocently, and all he could do was focus on the sound of Clyde's breathing, as Craig's blood cooled against his feet and Clyde's arms warmed around his shoulders. For the first time in awhile, Tweek felt safe.

But still, not all his questions were answered.

"Clyde," Tweek murmured. "What happened to you?"

There was a moment of silence.

"He kidnapped me." Clyde responded, his voice shaking. "He tied me up in his basement and didn't let me leave. I think he planned on letting me starve to death, because he only fed me every few days."

Tweek pulled away sharply, eyes wide. "He d-did?"

Clyde nodded, before he exposed his wrists to Tweek to show the rope burns from having been bound up in Craig's cellar. "He killed Butters, too. Showed me his dead body. I thought he was going to get me next. But then he left for a long time, so I managed to get out... I came here as soon as I could." Clyde shuddered and tugged his sleeves.

Tweek released a dry sob and wrapped him in a pained embrace. Clyde returned it with vigor and they stayed like that for several moments. Tweek felt Clyde kiss his temple warmly, and in the distance, police sirens began to make their way towards the Tweak residence. Tweek's eyelids fell shut and he buried his nose into Clyde's shoulder, not wanting the feeling of warmth and security that Clyde gave him to fade. Clyde pulled him up ever so slightly to look at him, and he kissed him once more, this time directly between his eyebrows. It made Tweek feel even warmer, despite the fact that his previous best friend lay dead beside him.

"Don't worry, man. It's all going to be just fine."

Tweek looked into his eyes, and he genuinely believed him.

* * *

**Stay tuned for the epilogue chapter, kiddos. The ride's not quite over yet.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Trigger warning for mentions of ableism and self harm. Oh, and gore.**

**Across a Sea: Epilogue**

* * *

There was a smile gracing his face.

Clyde Donovan was sort of a people person. He had troubles interacting with others sometimes because he'd either care too much or not care at all, and that was a problem from time to time. But still, he understood other people. He understood how they worked, how they ticked. His keen observation skills had come from years of watching his classmates and his parents. Only after his mother died did everything really _click_ for him.

Clyde knew about people like Craig Tucker. He knew that they were stern, depressive types that would sometimes throw fits of violence. He knew that they needed help but would never seek it on their own. And he knew that he could have easily helped Craig, if he'd cared. But he hadn't.

Clyde also knew about people like Token Black. Token was the quiet, ignorant type. Token was a good guy; he genuinely cared about people. His distaste for people with emotional and mental issues, although awful, never negated from his good qualities in Clyde's eyes. Token was the reason Clyde first ever approached the friend group. Had Tweek never come along, maybe Clyde would have simply obsessed over Token his entire life instead.

But, Tweek did come along, and Clyde never really recovered from the first moment of admiration that swept him off his feet and continued to push him down in thick, riveting waves of adoration. Everything about Tweek compelled Clyde to keep him close, to keep him safe. Unfortunately, he could never squeeze in as tightly as he'd wanted, with Craig in the picture.

_"He's my best friend!"_

_He's not your best friend. He's my best friend, and I'm his._

There was always a tunnel of negative thoughts pooling around Clyde's head when he saw Craig pull Tweek in a bit further, into his own issues. Years of Craig digging a bit deeper into Tweek's mind, and then exploding with his depression when his sister passed. Tweek didn't need anymore stress than he already had to handle. It upset Clyde, to see Tweek constantly fretting over Craig's well being. It upset him, because no one had ever felt like that for _him_, let alone someone like Tweek.

Besides, he'd never put Tweek through that.

It had been so easy to stuff a scary little note into Craig's locker. He only wanted to frighten him, at first. Mostly out of distaste for Craig. But with the hinting words from Tweek, something about Gary poisoning Stan, his clever little incidents escalated into an elaborate plan. He realized, he didn't have to settle for just scaring Craig Tucker. He could completely push him out of Tweek's life. How easy was it for someone to just disappear in a town like South Park?

Too easy.

Clyde knew Craig's house like the back of his hand from years of hanging out there. He knew the areas that Craig never entered, and he knew all the areas that Craig used. The Tucker parents were seldom home, if ever. Clyde almost believed they'd readily forgotten the town of South Park, including their remaining child, and had essentially lived somewhere different entirely.

Lights were off in the Tucker household by 3:00 AM, and it was all too easy for Clyde Donovan to sneak in and slip some of the medicine his father used to use - ipecac syrup - into Craig's soup. His first period was study hall, so he managed to skip just to leave a nasty message on Craig's window, too. He would have loved to see his reaction to it. Clyde was so talented in forging his parents' signature (sometimes he'd leave himself notes in his mother's handwriting, just to remember the feeling), it wasn't hard to get Craig's right too. It was only intended to disturb Craig out even more.

The following sleepover was unexpected, but Clyde couldn't hold himself back. He had coerced Craig into entering the darkness with him, and had feigned separation before attacking him. He was just so angry, he couldn't help it. He could never help being angry at Craig for being more important to Tweek than he.

It was around that time that Clyde thought it genius to make Craig look like he was the one behind his own stalking, when, in the darkness, Tweek had assumed _Craig_ was the stalker when he'd attacked Clyde. Not only would it screw with Craig's mind even more, but it would keep anyone looking for answers off his trail.

Clyde had picked up a talent for stealing. His father was usually at work and left Clyde to his own devices, which sometimes meant the house was empty and boring, but Clyde was also left without money. He'd go to the mall and casually lift things that caught his eye. Stealing Craig's special pocket knife during one of his many hugs didn't even come close to being a challenge. He released a more brutal side of himself on Craig's monthly grocery night. Craig had never cared for Tweek as much as his guinea pigs. He was so ungrateful.

Clyde hated his guts.

His scheme was not finished, though. Tweek latching onto Craig further, rather than distancing himself due to the scary killer, was the opposite of what Clyde had wanted. Clyde had to drop off the face of the planet if he really wanted to get the message across. He called Craig to say his last goodbye, but it had ended in him softly whispering into the phone about how Tweek's eyes reminded him of his mother's.

Disappearing itself wasn't hard. Making the scene believable was. He had smashed his foot against the sink several times in order to break it, alongside cutting himself and letting the blood drip to the floor. He left his phone as a centerpiece; better that he was left untrackable. Not just before Butters attempted to call him and reconcile, of course. Clyde had thought it laughable.

It was a shame, really. Butters had been his boyfriend for a short period of time, a year ago. A secret boyfriend, of course, that Mr. Stotch had discovered and gotten into explosive arguments with his son about. Clyde imagined that he himself was probably the topic of discussion that night when the Stotch's vehicle had swerved into Ruby Tucker's unsuspecting self. It was obvious that he and Butters didn't talk much after that incident.

Craig never used his own cellar, which Clyde took advantage of and stayed in for the period of time that he was "missing". He also took advantage of the fact that Craig never opened his own fridge, much less used it. Kidnapping Butters Stotch, severing his body and tucking the pieces away neatly into Craig's fridge was much easier than Clyde would have ever imagined. Much easier than purposefully bruising his own wrists and starving himself. He had never really liked Butters Stotch anyway, had only used him in the past as a substitute for Tweek, and it wasn't as though this was the first time Clyde Donovan had murdered another human being.

Things began to fall into place after that. Leaving the note indicating that Craig should come to the Stotch's home was significantly easier now that they lived together. He wasn't sure if it would benefit him, but it was fun to make things happen. He felt powerful.

But then, Craig took things into his own hands. Clyde wasn't sure what initiated it exactly, but he knew that the end of his elaborate scheme was coming close. He followed Craig to Tweek's house and hid in the bushes while he waited for something, anything, to happen.

Token crashing from the window above was not what he had in mind.

He was lucky enough to be behind the bushes and therefore not in the line of spatter. Still, he had looked disdainfully down upon Token's dying eyes. It was painful to watch him go. Clyde had cared for him at one point. But still, only a minor casualty. It was then that alarm bells went off in Clyde's mind; Craig was having one of his momentary rage fits, and Tweek was completely undefended in his presence. He had rushed into the house, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Killing Craig Tucker had felt perfect.

Clyde Donovan was ultimately the hero of this story. He had saved Tweek Tweak from the violent, disturbed Craig Tucker, who was secretly a dark man beneath his clingy exterior. Clyde rewarded himself by kissing Tweek.

Explaining his false story to the police was almost perturbingly easy; Clyde was good with fake tears, and once they found Butters' mangled body in Craig's fridge, it was essentially a cut case. Tweek was scarred by it, of course, but was slowly healing within Clyde's gentle arms. He would believe that Craig Tucker was behind everything, even if told differently. Clyde would be inevitably in the clear, no matter what happened.

His perfect, happy-ever-after fate was sealed when Tweek initiated a gentle kiss to his lips, believing Clyde to be the most genuinely faultless human being to ever grace the planet.

Afterall, you only see what you want to see.

* * *

**Well, there it is. I tried to wrap everything up as best as I could, with no loose ends. This story is, admittedly, not my best writing, not even in the slightest. The pacing is awful and there are some parts that lack decent description. Even so, I had fun writing it, and I hope you all had fun reading it.**

**Cheers to bad ends.**


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